Connected Hearts
by NonsensicalCheshire
Summary: For a while, her life seemed to be getting better, but she should have known that it was all going to go down the drain again. And again. And again. Just like every time before. /KenMashi is the main ship in this story, but it'll mostly show up in later chapters. You'll have to excuse the bad summary, it's a work in progress.
1. Fireflies

_**A/N:**_We all have those characters who are one of our favorites, right? And most of us flesh out those characters, especially if we know almost nothing about them. Mashiro is one of my favorites, and since we know virtually nothing about her, this is my uptake on her story. There will be KenMashi in this story, since they are my OTP of OTP's, and a made-up BroTP, along with a few supporting original characters who will show up every so often, but won't be the main focus of the story whatsoever. And don't worry, they won't be Mary-Sues. I can't stand Mary Sues. So, enjoy _Connected Hearts, _if you please.

. . . . . . . .

She lazily opens her eyes. The fading sunlight hits suddenly, causing her to blink away the sting. The woman mumbles and sits up. She's in the midst of a meadow, a forest behind her, the air dotted with fireflies. A stream runs through the it, flowing into a sparkling, blue-green sea with no end in sight. An ancient-looking tower rises up out of the water, decorated with vines and flowers lacing through it's cracks. Wind ruffles her hair, bringing along the scent of sweet flowers and salty air. The woman once again closes her eyes and lies back down onto her bed of grass and flowers. She's near sleep; then, the sounds of baying wolves can be heard from the forest. Footsteps are heard. A distant voice.

"My lady!" Why is she being bothered? "My lady?!" Maybe if she ignores this beautiful, feminine voice she can go back to sleep. That'd be nice."Go!" Hands grip her shoulders and shake her. "Wake up!"

Why should the woman wake up? Why can't she stay in this beautiful, peaceful place? Then, a distinctly more masculine voice echoes in her head.

"… Wake up!" Her eyes fly open and she's ripped from her inner world.

Her movements are hurried as she stumbles out of the makeshift bed. She's grabbing her zanpakuto and rearranging her robes (they were part open. Embarrassing). She rushes for the tents exit. Her thoughts are: _Is he okay? Why does he sound like that? Why do I smell_- She stops.

-_blood_?

There is blood everywhere. On the rocks. The grass. Swords lay scattered, covered with drops of it. Her subordinates are dead, strewn over the clearing, covered in their crimson life. Every last one, who she's known for the over thirty years. Worst of all? Her captain. Her wonderful captain and friend. He lies in front of her. Her socks soak up his blood.

Mashiro Kuna knows not what to make of any of it.

. . . . . . . .

She's wide awake when the alarm goes off. Awake and worrying. Her gray yukata provides her little warmth while stands in front of an open window and she shivers, rubbing her arms up and down. When she hears the alarm, she's snapped out of her thoughts of _"It's way cold. Maybe I should start a fire."_

It's words cause deep, churning dread in the raven-haired woman's stomach. _"Captain Kensei Muguruma and Lieutenant Mashiro Kuna's spirtitual pressures have vanished…" _She doesn't sit to listen to the rest. She runs. Her bare feet slap against the floor as she makes for the sliding door.

. . . . . . . .

Mashiro takes it all in briefly. Her sword clatters against the ground and her whole body turns to ice. Shinobou… Kasaki… Gizaemon… None move. Huge hazel eyes begin to fill with tears. But they don't fall. They never seem to. Feeling a glimmer of hope for her captain, she kneels by his side. Checks for his pulse; faint, but there. She lays her palm on the wound, willing the strong healing kido that she hasn't used in so, so long to begin pulsing from her fingertips. It doesn't.

Desperate to save her friend, she begins to press her sleeves against wound on his chest. Blood seeps out an an alarming rate still. Her full lips open and close. No sound leaves them. After a few more seconds, she starts to hyperventilate.

_"He's dying. Kensei's dying."_ That's all she thinks.

Finally after a minute or more of hyperventilation, she swallows and pulls away her sleeve. The small, very pale hands underneath are stained with ruby red blood. Mashiro ignores this, and grips her head, now full-on panicking.

_"What do I do?" _she thinks. _"What do I do? This wasn't supposed to happen. We weren't supposed to be taken out!" _Finally, tears silently drip down her cheeks. _"No, no, no…"_

A twig cracks behind her. She freezes. Someone is approaching her, clearly not going for stealth. The murderer, maybe? She grips her sword and turns swiftly, rage in her normally calm eyes. A blind man is approaching her. His sword is covered in blood. Kaname isn't even trying to hide his evidence.

"You." Mashiro's voice quavers. "Why you?!" She rushes him, drawing her zanpakuto. The white blade catches the moonlight as it clashes with his. "You lying, filthy-" She lets out a few more unladylike words.

Tosen's arms tremble under the pressure of his sword against hers. When she was calm, she was childish and sweet, but when you got her mad… He knew his lieutenant was not to be underestimated. She really was a beast.

"What was your objective?" she shouts, pushing the blade down further and further. "What are you gaining from betraying your squad? Answer me!" The small woman screams his name, lifts her sword… and turns to block one that has shot out from the trees. She's too late. The elongated zanpakuto rips through her scarf and pierces her throat. Her sword falls from her grasp. It retracts almost immediately, and Mashiro chokes on blood and ripped tissue.

The lieutenant is colder now, oddly so, and in pain. But her anger is still raging, canceling out the pain and chill. She turns back to Tosen, blood bubbling and pouring out of her neck, pulling back a fist-

Before bending over and dry heaving. Tosen takes a step back. A white substance bursts from her legs and covers them like full leg casts, writhing almost like a living thing. She shrieks and tries to move, but she's glued to the spot. Then, as suddenly as it started, the gunk stops moving.

Her eyes narrow. "Did it… stop?" She reaches down a tentative hand to touch the white stuff.

She bends over again, though, vomiting up the same substance. Mashiro struggles to breath as it starts to cover her face and drops to the ground. She reaches a hand out to Tosen. He just looks at her, but his hands twitch towards her, then fall. She slams a fist down onto the ground and cries over her fallen captain and subordinates, choking on the white gunk more and more and more. Mashiro looks up just barely, and the sky is the last thing she sees.

The stars look like fireflies.

. . . . . . . .

The woman is running down the hallways. Take a right. A left. The room she's looking for is just down this hall. She brings herself to a stop and bangs on the door. No reply. She's tempted to kick it down, but actually wouldn't dare. Her sharp eyes flick around the hall. That's right, she must still be in the Captain's meeting. The woman with black hair leans against the wall and waits for ten minutes or more.

A woman comes walking briskly down the hall. Amber eyes gain a curious look in them when they spot the figure by the office, and the walking pace becomes brisker. "You must've heard," the captain says. "It's no surprise that you're here."

"Of course I'm here!" The shorter woman blurts out. "Mashiro's spiritual pressure has gone missing! Missing!" The young woman is in near hysterics, a rare sight.

The captain rests a dark-skinned hand on her shoulder. "That doesn't mean anything. Hopefully," she attempts to reassure. "And the Head Captain has sent out five captain-class Soul Reapers. If she's alive, they'll get her home in one piece."

The young woman tries to calm herself. She isn't doing a super fantastic job. "I told her before she left to not go. But noo~. She had to follow that stupid captain of hers!"

"You know how loyal she is. Even if Captain Muguruma didn't ask her to come, she'd still follow him. Mashiro's always been like that. Fiercely loyal, and hating being left behind." The captain turns to head into her office.

"Please, though," the woman says without turning to face her. Her voice quavers slightly. "Just make sure she's okay, Yoruichi-sama."

Yoruichi pauses, her hand on the door, ready to shut it. "I'll see what I can do. I promise." She turns, shoots a grin that makes the other blush, and shuts the door.

Soi Fon looks at the sky through the window. "Mashiro, you stupid idiot."


	2. Darkness Creeping In

A/N: Yay, second chapter! This chapter is Mashiro meeting her hollow for the first time and fighting. Also, Kensei wakes up an exile from his home along with a whole bunch of other people. Hooray.

Quote (I've decided to add quotes/song lyrics at the beginning of each chapter that I think describe it well): _The moment you raised your sword, I felt that deep, innate loathing ignite within my core- the unreserved resentment of human nature. You were the very embodiment of the loathing that dwells deep inside us. But I have to admit, I was once very much like you._

_-Unknown _(If you find a source for this quote, I'd really like to know)_  
_ . . . . . . . .

She's floating in nothingness. Where she is, there is nothing but dark. It crashes down her, wrapping her up in misery… She has to get out. It's consuming her. She wants out.

Mashiro breaks the surface of water. She gasps for breath and rubs salty fluid from her eyes. They open warily, only to see that she's in the middle of the sea in her inner world. The coast is not too far away- her fireflies flicker above the land, signaling her. Grateful to be a strong swimmer, she starts for the shore.

Water drips from her robes as Mashiro hoists herself out of the salty water. She coughs a little and curses at Tosen, wherever he is. She rakes her fingers through her hair, expelling droplets, and mumbling to herself. Then, there are footsteps behind her. Mashiro freezes. She does not feel the warm presence of her zanpakuto. The feeling she gets is cold and sinister, gushing malice.

"Have yourself a nice swim, sweetie?" a venomous voice asks.

Mashiro places her hands in her lap. She slowly turns slightly. And gasps.

She's looking at herself. Except it's not her. The colors of the robes are reversed, and the skin is light gray instead of pale white. Her hair is a darker gray, and the scarf black. It's like someone has drained all the color from Mashiro.

The clone waves. "Surprised, are we? Your Ladyship?" It sneers at her.

Mashiro stands. "What are you?" she questions. She picks her sword up out of the grass and prepares to unsheathe it.

The black-and-white copy grins. "You."

The fighting lasts for a good while. Taunt comes after taunt. Attack after attack, surprise after surprise. The clone can match her every step, punch, kick. It used some hollow abilities as well.

Mashiro's zanpakuto has been kicked out of her hand, and a foot planted firmly into her stomach. She throws up. Twice that night. Fantastic. A hand, gray and bloodied, reaches out and scoops her up by the neck. The hollow-thingie holds her over the deepest part of the stream. Its free hand punches through her side before pulling out. Bloody fingers wiggle in her face.

"You're gonna die. You're never going to see anyone again, and you'll die alone." It smiled and waved at her. "Night-night, queen!"

. . . . . . . .

Soi Fon is running again. _No, no_. She's going towards Yoruichi-sama's room. _No, no_. This morning multiple members of the Stealth Force had dragged in the Kido Commander, Urahara, and eight captain-class Sou Reapers with hollow-like characteristics to Central 46. _No_. Mashiro had been among them. No, no, no.

"Yoruichi-sama!" Soi Fon bursts through the door. This was the last place to check for her. She was nowhere else. And now, she wasn't in her office either. She'd heard rumors- a person breaking into the judging and taking the accused away. Only her Yoruichi-sama could do that so quickly. Now she would be punished as well.

The black-haired woman clenches the door. Her shock and fear fade. Rage replaces them. There's nothing left to remember her by. Nothing to so much as say, "Hey, I'm leaving! Bye Soi Fon, have a nice life!"

"You said we'd always be together," she says aloud. "Yoruichi-sama. I can only hope that you left because of your promise. Keep it, at least."

Hate continues to fill her. She has been betrayed by her goddess. Yoruichi will never be forgiven.

. . . . . . . .

Her side hurts. So does her neck, with all its old scars and new one. Mashiro hears its laugh above the water. Sickening. The sound is distant. Despicable creature. Using her little remaining strength, she pulls herself to the water edge. A hand shoots out of the water and grips grassy land. Mashiro pulls herself up out of the water. She lies limply on the ground. The laughter stops abruptly.

"You're pathetic! You can't even stand!" It/she jeers. "What do you have to live for. You can't go home! Nobody cares for you, not really. Especially not your pathetic captain. Oh, he hates you," Mashiro stiffens on the ground. "In fact, I pity the man for having to put up with you all the time. Though, you could act more annoying if you wanted to, couldn't you?"

The green-haired Soul Reaper now tries to pull herself up. "You're wrong," she croaks. Blood flows from her wounds, mixing into the water. "After everything we've been through, I know he cares," Mashiro is on her knees now. "So what do you know?"

The hollow raises an eyebrow. "Come again, my queen?" It steps forward. "What do I know? I'm you, dearie."

It takes another step. Mashiro lifts two fingers to her lips and blows. A sharp whistle is heard. The hollow stops her approach, face curious. Then, without warning, creatures appear from seemingly nowhere. Wolves, five maybe, leap on the copy and clamp their jaws down on her. She gasps and tries to squirm free.

Mashiro stands. "So what, if you're me? I'm still in charge here. Everything is under my control." The copy has managed to kick off one wolf, only to have it disperse into spirit energy. "I can do anything I want. For example, make more to slaughter you if you struggle. It'd be difficult, but possible."

The clone glares, blood dripping from multiple areas on her body. The wolves are growling and snarling through their teeth. Mashiro approaches her, clutching her pierced side and limping along slowly. She'll just snap her neck, and this will all be over. She'll go home, like she promised… to Soi Fon.

But suddenly, the clone shudders and goes limp in the jaws of the wolves. Mashiro, too, faints without warning.

. . . . . . . .

Kensei clutches at his abdomen when he wakes up. He grits his teeth. The pain is almost unbearable. Almost. He sits up, swearing, and takes in his surroundings through bleary eyes. It looks like some sort of abandoned building. The light of dawn leaks in through windows- some are shattered.

As his head clears, he remembers Tosen. Just standing there with a sword in his hand. He remembers losing consciousness soon after. He can recall watching his subordinates as they lay on the ground, dead. He can only hope that his lieutenant got away.

"Ya up?" A familiar voice asks. Kensei turns his head to the left. Shinji Hirako is on the other side of the small room at a table, wearing his usual grin and playing a card game with Rojuro Otoribashi. Rose waves without looking, his eyes still on the cards.

Kensei blinks. What the hell are they doing here? And why are they doing something so ordinary when he has the feeling that something terrible has just occurred.

"Obviously," the man mutters. "What're you here for?"

"Ahh~," Shinji grins still. "Ya really can't recall anything that happened the other night, can ya?"

The man stares at the Squad 5 captain. Then, he dimly remembers fighting off a figure, having taunts and insults hurled at him. The fainting. Again.

Kensei opens his mouth to speak, but the door to the room opens. Kisuke Urahara stands in the doorway, looking at the people in the room before stepping in and shutting the door behind him.

"Well, how are all of you gentleman feeling? I see that you're up, Muguruma-san. How wonderful!" he says. Kensei simply stares. Kisuke's smile falters. "Having a difficult time recollecting the current events?"

"I suppose. Some of it I can remember, with difficulty."

Kisuke sighs. "I do hate to be the bearer of bad news," he says. He sits down at Shinji and Rose's table. "You're in for a long story."

By the time Urahara is done, Kensei feels light-headed. The only words he's processed are "hollowfication," "Aizen," and "exile." Three horrifying words.

He pinches the bridge of his nose. "Can I go outside? I think I need some air."

Urahara opens the door for him. "Certainly, Muguruma-san."

They both walk into the next room. There, he finds several others. Several other exiles. Hiyori Sarugaki is lying on a futon while Love Aikawa sits next to her. They're talking, trying to get some sense of normalcy. In a corner on the far side of the room, Lisa Yadomaru is curled up into a ball, shaking, while Hachigen Ushoda sits next to the woman, trying to comfort her.

_"Including Otoribashi and Hirako, there are seven of us. I guess ten, if you count Urahara and his minions," _Kensei thinks.

"This all?" he asks Urahara as they near the door out.

He stops, then turns to face the far more muscular man, a bit more than hesitantly. "Er, well-"

Then, Tessai Tsukabishi walks out of a room, near where Lisa is having her panic attack. He's wiping blood off of his hands. He pauses, then bows to Urahara. "Her condition hasn't changed, sir."

Kensei first registers that there is another person with them. Then, that this person isn't doing so well. After that, the word "her" finally settles in. He freezes up. Worst case scenarios begin to pop into his mind. He walks to the room without thinking.

He hears Urahara say, "Please wait, Muguruma-san!," but screw that. Waiting isn't an option. Kensei needs to know. He grabs the door and slides it open with far more force than necessary.

Yoruichi Shihoin is kneeling next to a person, her hand on their forehead. She starts when the door is opened with such force and pulls her zanpakuto out. When the former captain sees him, she calms down and puts it away.

"Pretty bad, isn't it?" she says, her hand moving to the forehead.

Kensei can't answer her question. He's in a mild state of shock. On the floor next to her is Mashiro Kuna, bloody and unconscious.


	3. From Long Ago

A/N: This chapter has a lot of Soi Fon in it. As you might've guessed, Soi Fon and Mashiro are a BroTP I made up and really like. It happened so long ago that I can't even remember how I thought of it, but it's stuck, for some weird reason. I'll stop blabbing about it and give you the next chapter.

Quote: _I didn't get around to kiss you goodbye on the hand, I wish that I could see you again, I know that I can't._

_- The Day You Slipped Away, _Avril Lavigne

. . . . . . . .

Soi Fon sets down a box with an "umph!" It should be the last one. Her back hurts from carrying so many heavy boxes. She surveys the room. Several boxes, at least six, are scattered all over the tiny area.

"That the last, Soi Fon?" a woman asks. She's taller than Soi Fon (but that's not really a hard thing to be), has jet black hair with red streaks, black eyes, and a very well-endowed figure. She's stretching, her back cramping from heavy-lifting as well.

"Yeah, it should be all. Thanks for helping, Akaihana." Soi Fon mutters.

The woman, Akaihana, stops stretching and smiles. "Hey, don't forget that Mashiro was my close friend, too. I'm happy to salvage her things."

"Not salvaging, saving," a man corrects. He walks into the room, another man trailing behind. Both look absolutely miserable. Both are tall, the first man being slightly more so, and both are lightly tanned. The first man has shaggy black hair and dark gray eyes. The other possesses wild light brown hair and dark green eyes.

The brown-haired man sighs. "Saving for when?"

"When she comes back!" the taller man snaps.

Soi Fon clenches her fists. He has so much hope. And he shouldn't, considering all he's been through as of late… He above all should understand her, how it feels to have your world ripped out from under you feet in a matter of seconds.

She's snapped out of her gloomy thoughts by Akaihana's sigh. "Don, we don't even know if she's alive." Her beautiful face falls. "I mean, I hope she's alive, but…"

Silence falls over them. The misery in the air seems tangible.

The green-eyed man lets out a noise of impatience. "Let's just divide up her stuff so we can go sulk by ourselves like we want to." He opens the nearest box and begins rummaging through.

Soi Fon grabs a box as well. "Always to the point, right, Kiba?" He grunts. "You guys have more right to her more important possessions, since you are her brothers and all. Akaihana and I will just take anything else." She shoots a glare at her when she pouts.

The silence is very awkward while she waits for a response. Finally, Don speaks. "Nah, it's fine. Everything's important to her, so we'd be hogging it all." He tries to smile.

She doesn't even bother trying, looking away instead and ripping open her box in silence. She stops when she sees its contents. It's all of Mashiro's art supplies, lovingly but hurriedly placed into the box by Akaihana most likely. There are chunks of clay and bottles of paint, brushes and carving tools. Paper, some painted or sketched on, is crammed into folders and sketchbooks.

You see, everyone has that one thing they can't fail at. For some, it's cooking. Others, academics. For Mashiro, it was art in any form. She saw it as a way to lose herself and forget her troubles. A way to express herself and create something completely new and unique.

Soi Fon fondly remembers all the black-cat based items Mashiro had made her over the years. A black clay vase with cat ears on the edges of it. A Western-style teacup with yellow eyes painted on, the handle as the tail.

She almost smiles at the thoughts.  
. . . . . . . .

Urahara is approaching him. Kensei whirls around to face him. "Why the hell is she like this, huh?!" He doesn't know why he's so mad. His fists grip Urahara's robes and pull him closer.

"Mashiro-san hasn't responded well to any treatment we've given her. She certainly isn't dying, by any means," Urahara adds, seeing the look on his face. "but she's in pain and won't wake up. Her wounds keep on opening, but they're not bleeding as much as they used to. She's certainly not waking up any time soon."

Yoruichi glances up at him. "But she'll wake up? She'll be fine?"

Kensei releases the man. Urahara stumbles back before regaining his balance. "Certainly, certainly, Yoruichi-san. I just don't know when." he pauses, staring at the two other people in the dark room. One is very worried- the other very ready to bash his skull in. "Let's all step outside and give her some space. I think it'd be good for her."

Kensei mumbles and walks out the door. Yoruichi sighs and stands, following. Urahara casts one look back at the comatose woman and shuts the door softly.

. . . . . . . .

Kensei lies down on his futon. It's been a week, but Mashiro still hasn't woken up. Hachi and Tessai keep telling everyone that her vitals are improving steadily, but she shows no signs of waking. They keep on wondering why she's taking so long. Kisuke and Yoruichi seem to know, but they're not spilling anything.

The former captain shuts his eyes and rubs his forehead. He still remembers the first time he met her. He'd found her quite attractive, but then she'd opened her mouth and he his. They'd started to absolutely _hate_ each other, working together only out of duty and loyalty to the squad.

. . . . . . . .

Third Seat Kensei Muguruma followed his lieutenant down the hall. He'd always admired the lieutenant, the way she walked like she owned the place, her air of confidence, her "come at me, bro" personality.

She turned back briefly to look at him. "You promise to be nice to her, Kensei?" she asked. He nodded. "Good. This girl is going to be one of the few females here, and one of the two in high-ranking positions. She'll probably be a little scared, at first."

Kensei nodded again. Squad Nine wasn't exactly full of women. It was a bit unsettling for them when they were stationed in the Squad. The two of them stopped when they saw a group of squad members crowded around at the door to a room, peeking into it.

"Wow, that's the new girl. What a cutie!"

"She's a little flat-chested, but sure makes up for it in the back!"

"I don't know. The hair is a bit of a turnoff."

"Yeah, how does she get it that way? Is it natural? It can't be!"

Kensei rolled his eyes. The lieutenant made a mad and disgusted face before continuing forward.

"Hey, pervert jerk-faces! Back off! She isn't some animal to goggle at!" she shouted.

The men scrambled away, unwilling to face her wrath. Kensei went to stand behind her. She opened the door and took a step in, her calm demeanor back. It quickly faded again when she gave a small jump and nearly tripped when she got a look at her. Kensei stopped reaching out to steady her, then looked at the woman standing alone in the middle of the room. He lifted an eyebrow.

She's really pretty, is what he decided. Maybe even beautiful. Her stature was small, but she had long legs- one of his favorite features on women. There was a pink scarf wrapped around her neck, and her sleeves were overly long. Her hair, lime-green, reached a little below mid-thigh and was woven into a simple braid. When she turned to look at them, he could see full lips and skin so pale and smooth, it was almost inhuman. She had fiddled with her bangs, causing them to hang in front of her eyes. He couldn't make out the color from behind the strands.

The lieutenant regained her posture and shrugged away his hand that was limply resting on her shoulder. "You're Mashiro Kuna-san, aren't you?" The woman nodded. "So you're our new Fourth Seat, huh? Straight from Squad Two," She nodded again. The lieutenant got an annoyed look, before shouting: "Hey, I don't know how they did thing in your old squad, but in this one, we use our words! So, open that hole in your face and introduce yourself!"

Mashiro Kuna jumped, stood straight, and did as she was told. "Y-yes ma'am! My name is Mashiro Kuna, recently transferred from the Second Squad as their Eighth Seat to this squad as your Fourth Seat," she paused, thinking. "But I think you already knew all that, so I don't see the point. It's quite the honor to meet my superior officers, nonetheless."

The lieutenant smiled. "Well, at least they taught you manners there. Welcome aboard, Mashiro!" She slapped a hand to her well-endowed chest. "I'm Squad Nine lieutenant, Hanabi Ayuzawa. We're lacking a captain as of right now, so it's perfectly fine if you slip up or decide to call me Captain Hanabi. This handsome man standing like a deer in headlights is our Third Seat, Kensei Muguruma. You'll be working together quite often, so get used to each other!"

Kensei bowed slightly to her. Mashiro lifted her eyebrow and gave him an amused look before doing likewise. "It's a pleasure…"

. . . . . . . .

He's just drifting into sleep when he feels a spike in spiritual pressure. Kensei bolts upright. Rose stops reading his book. Shinji stops the thorough brushing of his teeth.

"Werl, werl," Shinji tries to say around the toothpaste foam. "Rooks wike," He gives up and spits out an open window. "Looks like Sleeping Beauty is awake. Took 'er long enough."

Kensei is already on his feet, ready to head for the door. Rose frowns and puts down his book. "I wonder if Mashiro is feeling alright. Her spiritual pressure is a bit- Hey, Muguruma! She might not want visitors. Stop!"

He ignores him and walks into the next room. Everyone is crowded around the door. Hachi is standing in the doorway, trying to gently herd them away. No one is wiling to move.

"Move, idiots," he growls. They all scatter, making way, suddenly finding the desire to move. Hachi hesitates before stepping aside. He steps into the room and slides the door shut behind him.

. . . . . . . .

Soi Fon puts the two boxes down in her home. Then, she locks the door and slides down it, putting her head on her knees. Can she just fall over and sleep on the floor? She's too exhausted to crawl to her room and fall into bed…

It's been a tiring past four days. On day one, she'd simply stayed in bed all day, completely in denial. Day two, she'd gotten out of bed and walked around her tiny home, processing everything. By day three, she'd decided to gather all of Mashiro's things, knowing that anything not claimed by relatives would be destroyed.

_"And today,"_ she thinks as she gets on her knees and drags a box towards her. _"Today was a freakin' painful stroll down Memory Lane."_

The other box is full of Mashiro's art supplies, but this one is a mix of things. Clothing, books, stuffed animals (Mashiro's guilty pleasure), and a few other of her prized possessions. There are also quite a few photo albums. Soi Fon pulls out one. It's labeled simply: "Fun," embroidered in white leathering on the brown leather cover.

She opens it. The black-and-white photos are nostalgic. Most of them have been taken by Don, a photography enthusiast who'd been thrilled when some genius invented the camera. One is Akaihana, Mashiro, and Soi Fon playing a game of "Chase the Devil" on a day off. Another is a picture of her at a festival, pointing at something excitedly. On the next page is Mashiro building a snowman with a little girl.

Soi Fon smiles, only a little, and turns to the last page. Her heart skips a beat. Mashiro is sitting on a bench in the photo, her then-wildly-long hair worn down. A young man with a wild smile and unruly black hair sits next to her. He's pointing to something in a book while she looks over his shoulder.

Her heart clenches and her small smile vanishes. She shuts the album and puts it back into the box. Standing, she walks to her bedroom. She crawls into bed, grabs a stuffed animal off her nightstand and lies there. She squeezes the toy. It's a stuffed black cat- Mashiro's last birthday present to her.

Soi Fon hugs it even tighter and lets out a sob. Eventually, she stops holding back and decided to let it out while she's by herself, instead of when she could be in front of people. She cries herself to sleep.


	4. Faces

A/N: This has been one of my favorite chapters to write so far, because I wrote Soi Fon in a more gentle, casual manner. As you've probably noticed reading the manga, she was a far gentler person before Yoruichi's "betrayal." This is also the first time in the story that I think I've written them interacting face-to-face.

Quote: _"I know you. I've seen you in a dream, an old familiar scene from somewhere…"_

_- A Very Potter Sequel, _from the song "Those Voices."

. . . . . . . .

Urahara stands in the corner. Tessai is wrapping bandages around her bleeding lower leg. Yoruichi herself holds her hand, another arm wrapped around her shoulders. Mashiro herself is coughing up blood into her free hand. With every cough, blood gushes from a wound in her throat.

Urahara looks over at him. "She's fine. Just a little… rattled. And her throat is bothering her."

Mashiro stops coughing gradually. She looks at him. He flinches. Her eyes are emotionless and haunted. Rarely has he seen her look so… stoic.

"Hey," Kensei says. She still stares with no emotion. "You doing okay?" Still no response. Now he's looking at anything but her eyes. He observes the blood around her mouth, the speckles of it on her white under-robes. The bleeding leg. Her neck- he's never seen it so bare, only covered by reddening bandages.

Yoruichi looks at everyone in the room. "Tessai, is her leg all bandaged up?" The tall man nods. "Good. Give us some alone time, okay? I'll tell her everything."

_Wow, Kensei. Why're you letting these people boss you around? _a voice in his head asks. _Just let me at 'em. I'll kill them all for you, buddy!_

He clenches his fists. _No. Go away, psycho. _he thinks.

Before he realizes it, Urahara and his minion are pushing him from the room. His hollow is still screaming.

. . . . . . . .

It's still nagging him two days later at the dinner table. They've all had, well, "issues" with their inner hollows, some more than others. Hiyori and Shinji got into a pretty fierce argument and she totally lost it. It had taken Love, Shinji, and Tessai to hold her down. Lisa, it took little provocation, since she was in a bad mood all the time. She'd freaked out on Rose when they were just talking only a few days earlier.

Yoruichi walks in. She looks stressed and is carrying a barely touched bowl of rice and cold fish. Kensei sighs. "Is she still not eating much?" he asks her.

She shakes her head. "No. Which is weird, since food is her favorite thing ever. I'm really worried about her, Kisuke. She won't sleep, hardly eats, and hasn't talked at all. Won't even leave her room!"

Urahara tries to smile up at her. "No worries, Yoruichi-san. These are all just symptoms of post-traumatic stress. All she needs to do is adjust and she'll feel better."

Lisa stops chewing for a moment. "You'd like it if she never talked again, eh, Kensei?"

"Shut up, Yadomaru!"

"You're not the boss of me!"

Hachi, forever the voice of reason, intervenes. "Let's settle down. Your bickering isn't doing any good."

Kensei gives her a glare and proceeds eating. Yoruichi gives a troubled look to the bowl she carries before picking up a pair of chopsticks and consuming its contents. The room is silent except for the sounds of utensils against bowls and Hiyori's noisy chewing.

Tessai collects everyone's bowls when they're done. All the exiles leave the room to do random activities. Kensei grabs Yoruichi by the shoulder as she walks away. "Why are you doting on my lieutenant so much, Shihoin?" he asks.

She looks at the floor and shrugs him off. "I made a promise."

. . . . . . . .

Yoruichi grabs a box from her room two days later. Kisuke and Tessai give her questioning looks as she carries it out. She walks down the creaky stairs of the abandoned building to the first floor. Hiyori passes her and gives a look at the box. Yoruichi nods at her, let's her know it's all right, before disappearing into Mashiro's room.

Mashiro is looking blankly out a window. She's changed into a dark gray kimono and a dark red coat. She turns to face Yoruichi slowly. There still is no emotion on her face, save exhaustion. Bags and circles frame her eyes to due the insomnia.

"Hey, pretty lady." Yoruichi grins. Mashiro blushes slightly and glances at the box. "I brought you something. Wanna see?" She approaches Yoruichi and nods. Yoruichi kneels down and sets the box in front of her. Mashiro pulls her coat tighter around her and kneels as well. "Thought this might make you fell better," she says while opening the lid. "I managed to grab these before I swooped in to save everyone. Here, it's all yours."

Mashiro pulls the box towards her. Reaching into the box, a slight smile graces her lips. Yoruichi smiles as well and ruffles her hair affectionately.

"Look, you smiled! I knew this would do the trick. I just grabbed a few things. A change of clothes, some paper and a set of pastels. And some photos." Mashiro looks sadly at the people in the pictures. "I thought you might want to remember their faces."

The green-haired woman shuffles through them. Some have pictures of her two brothers. Others are of her squads, Second and Ninth. She frowns when she sees the ones of Akaihana and Soi Fon. Then, she puts the rest of them back in the box and holds just one. A photo of a young man with black hair. She grips it tightly, crinkling it a little bit.

Yoruichi looks sadly at the picture and reaches out to touch her shoulder. Mashiro gasps, drops the picture, and clutches her head. Yoruichi flinches back at the sudden movement. The other woman lies there like that for a moment, then takes a deep breath and lowers her arms.

Yoruichi picks up the picture and puts it into the box. "Don't worry. Kisuke is working on a way to suppress your inner hollows. It won't be long now."

. . . . . . . .

It's pouring rain. Soi Fon looks out her window and listens to the rumble of thunder. The clouds are dark gray and make her feel sadder and angrier than she already is. Droplets of water pelt the glass.

The woman jumps when she hears the kettle on the stove whistling. She turns from the window and reaches into the cabinet for a cup. Slamming it down on the counter, she then reaches for the kettle and pours it into the cup. Sipping at it and cursing when she burns her tongue, Soi Fon pulls out a chair and sits down at the table.

She's trying to think about all the things she hates, hoping it will make her feel better. She hates Kisuke Urahara. Hot days. The color pink. Spiders. Snakes. Soi Fon hates Yoruichi Shihoin. And the stupid former Squad Nine Captain Kensei Muguruma.

That's right. If he had just not let Mashiro go with him, she might still be here. He hadn't even invited her along! He's an arrogant jerk, Soi Fon decides, and how did he even get someone like her Mashiro to be that loyal to him? Like hell he deserved it.

Soi Fon sighs and rests her head in her arms. Only earlier this month, Mashiro had been at this same table with her, laughing and telling her all about everything, and insisting on knowing all the latest gossip from the Stealth Force. Frequently asked questions were if so-and-so and what's-his-name had gotten together yet. Only a few short weeks ago, everything was as normal as it ever was with her best friend.

. . . . . . . .

There was a knock at her door. Soi Fon smiled as she sensed the familiar spiritual pressure. She got off the couch and opened the door. Mashiro stood there, grinning, holding a plate of baked goods. She wore a gray kimono with a white apron over it, stained all over with batter and frosting.

"Soi Fon, look, look!" she squealed. "I made cupcakes, and I didn't burn them!"

Soi Fon leaned over to poke at one. Well, at least they weren't rock-hard. "Come on in. I'll put on some tea and see if these things are even edible." She put on the kettle and got out two cups.

Mashiro set the plate down on the table and removed her apron, muttering to herself, "Thought I took that off. Oh well! I would've asked Kensei to try these, but he'd probably yell at me if they didn't taste good." She licked some frosting off her palms. "He yells a lot, did you know that?"

Pouring the tea, she responded with, "Well, if you didn't annoy him so much, Captain Muguruma would probably yell less."

The lieutenant giggled and put a hand to her cheek. "But it's so fun to act childish and get him all worked up. I've seen his face get shades of red that I never thought could exist!" She sat down in a chair. "Aren't my acting skills amazing? I've got everyone fooled, Soi Fon my dear."

She sat down across from her, putting the tea on the table. "I still don't see why you go around acting like a five year-old." She picked up a cupcake and sniffed it. It didn't smell deadly…

Mashiro blew at her tea. "Well, it's fun, first and most of all, and it's a good way to harness my skills as an actress. Also, you know how I am with getting close to people. This, it sort of keeps them at arms length."

They sat in silence for a while, Mashiro drinking her beverage and Soi Fon prodding at the pastry. After receiving a glare from her best friend, she decided they were safe for consumption and took a bite, a bit more than cautiously.

"Mmmm… Not only are these edible, they are actually pretty good. A job well done, my good lieutenant," Soi Fon complimented. The other woman smiled. "So, you've got that investigation tomorrow, right?" Mashiro nodded. Soi Fon sighed. "Disappearing souls… I've told you I've got a bad feeling about this case, right?" Another nod. "So don't go! Your idiot captain didn't even invite come along! You're not required."

Mashiro put down the cupcake she'd just picked up. "It's my job to follow my captain everywhere, Soi Fon. That's a lieutenant's duty. One that I'm honored to be able to do."

The black-haired woman scowled. "Last time you insisted on following him like this, you were seriously wounded. Bad things happen whenever you do this."

"You can't base that off of one experience. It's not logical."

"Well, fine! Go do whatever you feel like you need to do. I'm just going to say again, bad feeling." She bit her lip.

Mashiro let out a deep breath and patted her friends hand. "Don't worry. I'll come back safe and in one piece."

Soi Fon lifted her free hand and poked Mashiro's forehead. "No no, do not tell me not to worry. I'll just worry more," she paused. "You promise."

Mashiro let go of her hand and stood up, carrying her cup to the sink. "Of course I promise. And have I ever broken a promise?"

Soi Fon watched as she grabbed her apron and headed for the door. "No, I suppose not."

"That's right. Share the rest of those cupcakes with Yoruichi-sama and Akaihana. I'll be back before you know it. We'll go get dinner at that ramen place we like." She opened the door and looked back, giving her a wide grin. "Love you, Lin."

She smiled back, not quite as wide. Soi Fon didn't do wide smiles. "Love you too, Shiro."

And that was the last Soi Fon saw of her.


	5. A New Viewpoint? Well, That's Odd

A/N: I really enjoyed this chapter, because it eludes to an event in Mashiro's past that prevents her from using her zanpakuto. Also, I explored some potential abilities and her hollow's personality more.

Quote: "_If you're going through hell, keep going."_

_-_ Winston Churchill

. . . . . . . .

Mashiro stretches, preparing herself. She's about to be the last to undergo the process. Hiyori sits on the ground near Rose, shaking from her close call during her turn only minutes ago. Mashiro's put it off as long as possible, not wanting to go back to her inner world and see that… that _thing._

A hand grips her shoulder. Kisuke-san looks down at her. His eyes ask, _Are you ready for this?_

She's exhausted and emotionally drained, so no. No, she is not. But there is no turning back, so she nods. She tells herself to calm her nerves; inhale, exhale, think of happy things. Her eyes close. His other hand comes in front of her face, there's a flash of kido, and she collapses into the dark.

. . . . . . . .

Her head pounds. Apparently, lack of sleep and bright flashes do not go together. Someone should've told Mashiro that. She stands and rubs at her eyes, trying to blink away bright spots.

"Back again, love?" The hollow seems to appear out of thin air.

Immediately in a fighting position, Mashiro takes a second to look around, suddenly feeling something off. And it is. The hollow has certainly added her own personal touch to the place. The water is black. Patches of meadow grass are dying. The sky is overcast. The tower in the sea is overrun with more vines than usual. And all of her fireflies are slowly flickering out.

"Like it? I couldn't stand how vibrant and green everything was," the hollow comments. "Oh, and your zanpakuto, dear." Mashiro stiffens, shooting a glare. "It was cute, thinking that I could be beaten by those so out of practice. I took the liberty of scaring them into that tower over there. No one's getting in our way." She puts a hand on the edge of her sword, draws it, and smiles evilly. "Here I come."

Mashiro barely has time to dodge. The hollow is just as fast as her. The clone jumps into the air when she attempts to kick her legs out from under her. She kicks in midair, but Mashiro leans to the left and her cheek is grazed. The next punch she gives lands on the hollows cheek. It punches back, abandoning the sword, and lands a firm hit on her stomach.

They go back and forth like that for a while, hand-to-hand, just the way Mashiro prefers. Her clone is smiling like an idiot as punches are thrown, and simply squeals with delight whenever one of her bones is fractured, or when she's bruised by a kick.

Attempting one last hit, Mashiro misses and jumps back. Both of them are breathing heavily. She drops to one knee, placing a hand in the grass. Her fingers are moving slightly in the dirt.

"Done yet?" The hollow asks. She gives no response. "You know how you could win this, right?" Mashiro just reaches up and pulls her hair out of her eyes. "Release your zanpakuto."

The former lieutenant freezes. She shuts her eyes. Memories, horrible ones, come rushing to her. Rain falling on her, blood dripping onto her face, the tip of a sword poking, just barely, at her chest. And a face, blood dripping from the mouth. No, no.

"That's right, you won't. Too painful, right? All because of-"

Mashiro's eyes fly open. "NO!" The hollow and herself are startled by the sound and intensity of her voice after having been silent for nearly a month. "Don't you _dare_ say it! You have no right!"

"It's too bad you're afraid to use it," the hollow says, regaining her smug attitude, "because I'm not."

It begins to speak the release command. Now's her chance. Lunging up, she clasps her hands together as if to pray. The sound echoes. The hollow pauses, confused as to what she's just done. Mashiro focuses and pours her spirit energy into the markings she's traced all over the ground where she's been during the fight.

Hollow Mashiro looks confused when the ground starts to glow faintly in a pattern, then realizes what's happening. It's too late to run. The markings now rush towards her, weaving up her legs, some lines of marks suddenly rising up from the ground to grip her wrists. Some wrap around her abdomen and chest, others go higher and gag her. They pull her down to the ground, and she struggles to just stay on her knees.

Mashiro lowers and unclasps her hands. "Imprisonment Seal, Level Two, completed." She approaches the bound figure who glares up at her with loathing. "Thought you knew I could do that. After all, aren't you me?" She snaps her fingers. The seal around the mouth falls. Her hollow gasps.

"It momentarily slipped my mind that you were good with seals, yes. Learned how to use these tricky things to make up for the use of your zanpakuto, correct?"

Mashiro holds out her hand. The seals from her mouth coil around her neck and elongate into something like a leash. She'll have her zanpakuto escort her to the tower later. "More or less." She picks up her opposites sword and looks at it. "Don't get me wrong, I love my sword. I just have no intention of using it often, if at all. Not after-" She can't bring herself to say it. The words get stuck in her throat. Instead she lifts the sword above the monsters back. "I'm ruler here, beast."

She brings the blade down. The hollow coughs up a little bit of blood, then chuckles. Her body starts to vanish. "You won this time, your ladyship. But-" She puts her face as close to Mashiro's as she can from her bound position. "At some point, you're going to be weak. You'll need me desperately. When that time comes, I'll break free and cut you down."

They hold each others gazes until the hollow completely fades.

. . . . . . . .

Dodge. Dodge. Punch. Kick, punch. It's been a pattern for six minutes. Kensei ducks as a leg comes swinging towards him. He narrowly dodges it. He shunpos back some distance. The hollow in front of him shrieks.

Mashiro is the last one to go through the process they've invented. Urahara had been stumped as to how to get their hollows controlled, except for brute force. That seemed to be the one thing they responded to. So, the Visoreds (catchy name. Hiyori and Rose had come up with it.) had decided to put themselves into Kido-induced sleeps and willingly hollowify. So far, it's worked.

She's been going for 45 minutes, and the hollow doesn't look like its getting weaker. Its grown translucent wings under its arms that are good for slashing, as he's learned the hard way, praying mantis claw-pincer-things, and her hair's become a mane of green. He's becoming concerned at how swiftly it's progressed.

Another two minutes pass. Two more to go before his turns up. She can do this. It's Mashiro. She can do this. His lieutenant. The hollow slashes out with its claws. They rip his shirt, and it _hurts_. The claws are probably tipped with some sort of pain-inducer.

He hears Kisuke begin to countdown, Rose getting ready for his turn. Her hollow still uses Mashiro's inhuman grace to lash out with its claws and legs in ways he didn't know a human body could move. 6…5…4…

_Crack._

The claws shatter only an inch from his neck, revealing perfectly normal hands, pale fingers. The mane of green hair sheds, leaving it her normal length. The hollows translucent wings crinkle into small pieces. The legs break apart, and her knees give out. He puts out his arms and takes a step forward. She collapses into his chest, the mask on her face crumbling.

Kensei holds her. "You alright?" She twitches in response. "I'm not holding you all day, you know."

"Awww, but it's so cute!"

"Quiet, Lisa!"

He's startled when one of her hands comes up to rest on his chest. Then, Mashiro shoves him away. He stumbles back a little, not expecting her burst of strength. She stands there, dusting off her pants, picking off shards of hollow mask. Straightening up, she looks him in the eyes. He's startled. She looks normal again. The bright look is back in her eyes. The slightly mischievous look, as if she's saying, _Oh, joy. I wonder how I can annoy Kensei today!_

They stand there for only a second. Then, Mashiro grins. "Never better, Captain."

. . . . . . . .

Tessai bandages up his shoulder for him. Hachi and Mashiro are close by, and he's relocating her arm which somehow popped out of place while she rambles on about something pointless probably. The scene reminds him of one somewhat similar to it.

. . . . . . . .

"Gah, Muguruma!" Mashiro whined from the back of the group. "I'm exhausted! And starved!" She dramatically threw herself against a nearby tree. "Isn't there anything to eat?"

He clenched his jaw. "No, Kuna. Just keep walking!"

She groaned. "But I don't want to~. My legs hurt! Can't these stupid hollows come to us?"

"Now, now, Mashiro-san." Shinobou, ever a gentle soul and her personal defender against Kensei, put a hand on her shoulder and gave her a push. "If we stall for too long, they might be able to ambush us. Would you want that to happen?"

She sighed. "No, I guess not. Aren't you tired, though, Lieutenant Hanabi?"

Lieutenant Ayuzawa looked back from her position at the front of the four-person group. "Actually, I am. There's a nice little clearing up ahead. Let's rest there for a few minutes."

"Yay!" Kuna rushed ahead. Her braid slapped his arm.

He scowled at her as she ran. "Lieutenant, you really shouldn't give her what she wants. It only-"

"Aw, chill out, Kensei. I am tired, and while we rest we can talk strategy. After all, this is a whole nest of Adjuchas we're trying to uncover. We need a plan."

They all sat down in the clearing, Kuna happily munching on some rice crackers Shinobou had produced from his bag. Kensei pulled a map of the are out. Lieutenant Ayuzawa pulled back her glossy black hair and rearranged her zanpakuto.

"Let's see… Rukongai citizens reported hollows sightings only a mile east of here, right?" Shinobou asked, looking at the map.

"Yes. Which means that when we leave here, we should be really cautious. They could be migrating this way for all we know."

He rolled up the map and stored it back into his traveling bag, then leaned back and decided to enjoy the peace while it lasted. The lieutenant had grabbed the snacks from Kuna and was scarfing them down. She'd just handed them back to Shinobou when Kuna suddenly sat up from her resting spot. She looked left and right.

"Hey, hey, stay quiet for a minute!" Everyone shut up. Her eyes narrowed. "Anyone else hear that?"

Lieutenant Ayuzawa stopped mid-chew. "No, but what are you hearing?"

Kuna pulled her hair away from her ears, a deeply thoughtful and concentrated look on her face. "Hollows. But it sounds like its coming from the north and west of here, like they're splitting up into groups."

_How could she possibly hear that?_

Ayuzawa immediately stood. "Alright. We'll split into groups, too. Kensei, Mashiro, go north. Shinobou, come with me."

Kensei and Mashiro started protesting. Things like, "No!" and, "I'm not going with Mr. Stick-in-the-mud!" and, "She's an annoying little-" and, "Hey, I'm not annoying, stupid!" and finally, at the same time: "I'm not going with him/her!"

"Well, too bad! Mashiro's been in this squad for three months and you two can't get along! Just learn to!" Ayuzawa snapped. She grabbed Shinobou's arm and dragged him off into the trees.

Left alone, Mashiro huffed. "Okay, I want to know. What's your problem with me, besides that I'm 'annoying?'" she asked.

"You think nows a good time to discuss this?!" She remained stoic. "Fine! You're annoying and immature. You wine all the time and can't do anything right!" he shouted.

She raised her eyebrows before narrowing them and jabbing a finger in his face. "Now you listen to me, meat-head-"

He didn't. "Seriously, you're a grown woman! Who raised you? I'll bet you were a spoiled brat as a child who got everything!"

Her face froze. Her mouth closed, then opened slightly. The accusing finger by his nose fell. She shook her head slightly. He tried to look at her eyes at this close proximity, still finding himself curious about the color that eluded him. He still couldn't make them out behind her disheveled bangs.

The two glared at each other. Mashiro made a sound of annoyance and stormed off north. Let's get this over with."

Kensei took a deep breath, wondering what her little freakout was about, then followed. They walked in silence for five minutes, until she stopped and suddenly tackled him.

. . . . . . . .

A/N: Also, feel free to guess the reason that Mashiro won't use her zanpakuto. I'd love to hear your guesses!


	6. Look in the Mirror

Warnings: There is torture in this chapter. Nothing too graphic, mostly just mentions of it

A/N: After the cliffhanger from that last chapter, we continue! So, I've always had suspicions that maybe Mashiro wears overly-long sleeves/a scarf all the time. This chapter sort of covers part of my headcanons for it.

Quote: "_Where fear is, happiness is not._"

- Seneca

. . . . . . . .

"Get down!" she yelled.

Where she stood a second before was demolished by a cero. She opened her eyes and upon realizing she was practically laying on his chest, she shoved herself away. They stood.

"Um, maybe we shouldn't have raised our voices a while ago, eh, Muguruma?"

Two Adjuchas hollows appeared and closed in on them. Both were somewhat small for their rank. One resembled a large bird with a long beak, the other something like a leopard. It began to circle him. He drew his zanpakuto. "Kuna, where's your sword?" he shouted over the hollows.

She looked at him. "I, well, uh…" She jumped away as the bird hollow charged her. "Well, I don't have it."

"What?!"

"I don't use it! Is that so hard to believe?"

He stared at her, trying to process this information. He didn't notice that the previously not-attacking hollow was swinging its paw towards him until it hit him. He crashed into a tree. Mashiro looked over from where she was fighting off hers. Blood dripped from his lips.

"Muguruma!"

The bird hollow shrieked and slammed its beak down, scratching up her arm while she was distracted. She squeaked and winced.

"OW! Oh, quiet you, you stupid bird!"

In an impressive display of speed and strength, she flash-stepped above the hollow and drop-kicked onto its mask. Squawking, it collapsed under the pressure. The mask cracked and it vanished.

He struggled to pull himself up as the overgrown cat approached. Kensei flopped down when he realized- the hard way- that his arm was dislocated.

"Hado 33, Sokatsui!" The kido crashed down on the hollows shoulder. It howls and flees. Mashiro ran towards him, her palm still smoking from the use of kido. "Muguruma!" She reached him and knelt down, pulling his head into her lap. "I think I scared it off for a minute. Cat's don't like pain." She placed her hand on his forehead.

"Don't mind me, idiot, just go after it!" he coughed.

She ignored him. "I'll do it later. You're bleeding from the mouth, so it's got to be internal damage. Most likely minor." She poked his shoulder. He cringed. "Dislocated arm? Okay. This is going to hurt, so bear with me."

Kensei shut his eyes, preparing for the pain. He feels her sleeved-covered hand on his bicep, the other on his shoulder. Then: _**Pop! **_She moved them. He swore.

"Ow."

"Sorry. Now, let's see. Anywhere el-" She was cut short when the hollow reappeared, melting, literally melting, from the shadows. There was no time to react as it swung its tail towards her head, making contact and sending her crashing and skidding across the forest. Her hair snagged some branches. The braid came undone, and she laid there in a heap, her green hair fanned out.

Kensei stood and regretted immediately putting weight on his newly located arm. The hollow snarled and raced towards her twitching form. Not thinking straight (Kuna must have been rubbing off on him), he picked up his sword and threw it like a javelin. He remembered too late that he had terrible aim.

But some form of luck must've been on his side. The sword lodged itself in its left eye. It screamed and writhed, trying to dislodge it from its eye socket. When it didn't, the leopard howled and became, if it was possible, even angrier. It lashed out and tore up Mashiro's back, easily ripping through cloth and flesh.

Maybe luck wasn't on his side.

It's paw crashed down on her stomach. She jerked and coughed. He flash-stepped by its side and roundhouse kicked its head, right on the edge of its mask. The mask flew off, shattering, and the hollow froze mid-roar. Slowly, it crumbled and vanished.

"Kuna!" He picked up his bloody sword and sheathed it.

She moaned in response. "Ow. Ow." He touched her back. "Ow! That stings, jerk!"

He removed his hand quickly. It came away red. "Sorry. Can you walk?" he asked, rubbing the blood on the grass.

"Don't think so." She took in a pained breath. "That thing was _way_ stronger than Birdy. I think I might've fractured a rib. Ow, it hurts!"

She glared at him. He was startled, because her eyes were visible, her hair finally not hanging in her eyes. They were large and a very pretty shade of hazel that complimented her skin and hair fairly well. In the light they shifted shades slightly.

"Hey, hotshot, what're you looking at?" she said.

He shook his head and put his arms under her legs and shoulders. Ignoring her protests of, "Hey, stop! Put me down!," he scooped her up bridal style.

"Put you down? So you want me to leave you here, Kuna?"

She scowled. "Just call me Mashiro. Kuna is _so_ formal. I'll call you Kensei." He looked at her as he carried her off. "We just fought off an overgrown kitty together, dumbhead, I think we're at that stage! Man, boys are so stupid."

. . . . . . . .

She fell asleep sometime on the way back to the Sereitei. Shinobu had offered to take a turn carrying the sleeping woman multiple times, but he refused and carried her all the way to Squad Four. Blood from her back stiffened his robes, but he felt like he owed it to her for trying to protect him and for her helping him.

Seinosuke Yamada was walking by the barracks, writing on a clipboard when he saw them. He dropped his clipboard and rushed over towards him. "Woah, woah!" He stopped in front of them "Mashiro? What happened to her?"

Kensei explained briefly, handing her over into his outstretched arms, made curious by his casual use of her first name. The lieutenant took her gently, moving her hair out of her face. He called in for a room.

"Why don't you come in, too? You've got a little dried blood around your lips." Seinosuke Yamada said.

"What? No, no. I'm feeling fine-" But Yamada was already in the building. Rude.

Nonetheless he walked in after. Yamada was setting her down on a bed and hooking her up to IV's. He placed a couple of fingers on her wrists and jotted down some notes on his clipboard. Kensei stood in the doorway, unsure of what to do.

"So… Is she okay?" he asked.

The lieutenant didn't even look at him. "She'd be better if you'd thought to bandage her up, that's for sure. Mashiro is lucky she didn't lose more blood."

His curiosity peaked and he asked, "Hey, you called Ku- Mashiro by her name. You two friends?"

Seinosuke's face went red faster than a thought. His pen clattered to the ground. "F-friends. Yeah, she comes in often enough. I mean, not to see me, well, sometimes, but she's usually just prone to getting hurt. A lot. So we're pretty close. We laugh, we talk, so yeah. I guess."

Kensei raised an eyebrow. _Nervous much, pal? _he thought. Deciding to fluster the rude man even more, he continued.

"Ah. So, nothing romantic. You're just buddies?"

"R-romantic. Oh, no no no. Why would you ask? That's stupid. Shut up."

_Oh, so he's got a thing for her. Didn't see that one coming._

There's a soft sound from the bed. "Owww… It hurts!"

Yamada jumped. "Mashiro?" He turned to face her in the hospital bed. "How are you?"

Kensei went to stand by her bed. Her hazel eyes blinked open. "Kensei? Seinosuke? Oh, Seinosuke. How are _you_ today?"

"I'd be better if you told me how you were."

Her eyes narrowed in thought. "Well, my back hurts, but other than that I'm more sore than anything. It hurts to breath. There might be a fractured rib." She shrugged. "Other than that, I'm just great, Seinosuke!"

"Fractured rib doesn't mean 'great,' Mashiro."

Mashiro giggled and sat up. She looked at Kensei. "Are you alright? You might want to get your arm checked."

He lifted a hand and waved it dismissively. "No, I'm good-"

"Don't be stupid, it probably hurts, silly. Seinosuke is amazing! He could look at it for you."

The Squad Four lieutenant blushed when she called him amazing. "Alright then, sit."

"I said I'm fi-"

"The lady insists," he said in a firm voice. Kensei looked down awkwardly and let the other man prod his shoulder and check his organs. "You're good. I'll go now. Bye, Mashiro."

"Bye-bye, Seinosuke!" She gave a cheerful wave. "You can go too, if you want. I'll be back to work by tomorrow, I'm sure."

He stared at her for a few seconds before realizing he had to respond. "Oh, uh, okay. I'll tell everyone your doing fine." He hesitated. "I'm sorry about what I said before, about you being a spoiled brat. But where did you live? Your reaction made me just a little bit curious."

Mashiro looked stunned that he would ask. Then she said with a smile, "That's my secret!"

"Fine then. Doesn't matter, I suppose. See you later, Mashiro."

"Bye!"

Kensei shut the door and exited the barracks. The way he felt when she talked to him… Was he starting to like her? No, no, definitely not. Well, then again, Mashiro was an attractive woman- why shouldn't he feel attracted to her?

And anyone who could get Seinosuke Yamada to like them had to be pretty amazing.

. . . . . . . .

It's dark around Soi Fon. The forest of her inner world is pitch black, and all she can see is the zanpakuto spirit she's talking to, her glow illuminating her. The spirit is sitting in a tree high above her. Her skin is amber and her hair auburn. She wears a silk yellow kimono with a stripey pattern and a black obi. She dons her shikai on both hands, the gauntlets glinting in her radiant glow.

Suzumebachi tilts her head. "Why're you mad at Yoruichi, but not Mashiro-chan? She left too, didn't she?"

Soi Fon scowls. "Mashiro didn't leave by choice! It was her captain's fault that she left. Yoruichi left of her own free will!"

Suzumebachi frowned, clearly not embracing the logic of her master. "If you say so." She jumped down from the branch. With outstretched arms, she embraced her master tightly. "I'm very sorry that you're sad, mistress."

She doesn't return the hug. "Whatever. Can you help me or not?"

The zanpakuto pulled away. "Of course. But you'll have to work really, super hard."

"I'm willing." There's nothing else to do but work hard.

Suzumebachi grins and claps her hands, her gauntlets clanking. "Then let's get ourselves a bankai!"

. . . . . . . .

"Mashiro-san?" Hachi is behind her. "You still haven't slept?"

"Oh, Hachi." Mashiro turned from the window. "No, I haven't."

The bags under her eyes are more prominent than ever, and he notices. Her insomnia has gotten worse. But she can't help it. She's never been able to sleep well and at this time of year the nightmares can get even worse.

He frowns. "Can you tell me why?" He sits and pats the floor next to him. She can tell he's genuinely worried, and that makes her happy since so few people are rarely so, so she sits.

"Well, a long time ago around this time of year… something happened. It's personal, you know? I'm sorry that I can't tell you. I tend to have nightmares and I'm scared they'll be worse with everything that's happened recently." She sighs. "It's all just stupid fear."

"Hmm," is all the giant has to say. "Well, if it really scares you, then the fear certainly isn't 'stupid.'" They sit in silence, he thinking, and she inwardly complaining to herself about how tired she is. "Well, what if I sat here while you slept? That way, you know someone is protecting you."

"R-really? You'd do that?" It might help. She always felt better when Soi Fon, Akaihana, or her brothers came and slept in her room. It certainly calmed her.

"Certainly, Mashiro."

She's so tired, she just leans against his side and shuts her eyes. It takes her an hour, but she falls into sleep.

The dreams are as awful as she predicted. In the dream, she's walking in a forest. It's the forest near the 52nd District of the South Rukongai. There's supposed to be thugs in this area, a group of deserted Soul Reapers. Yoruichi-sama had sent her out alone on an assassination job, trusting her skills.

In this vision, she's adjusting her Stealth Force uniform, trying to prevent the cloth from rustling. Then Mashiro stands, thinking that she's heard something. She wants to scream at herself. _Dammit, look behind you, idiot_! It's too late, though. She turns as a large rock bashes into the side of her head.

The nightmare shifts. Mashiro is chained to a wall in a little rundown building in the middle of nowhere. A man kneels in front of her. The vision has no sound, but she knows what he's saying. Bragging about how the chains are made of sekkiseki. The little Soul Reaper wouldn't be going anywhere anytime soon, would she? How she would die there.

Her response? Bite me, if she recalls correctly. She spits at him. The man scowls and slaps her. He waves a hand and a person comes in holding a tray, setting it down by him. She remembers feeling fear as he picked up a particularly sharp object and gave her one of the most evil smiles she'd ever seen.

. . . . . . . .

She forces herself awake. Immediately she pushes herself away from Hachigen, walking briskly to the bathroom.

"Mashiro? Are you alright?" he says.

"Yeah, I feel great! I just got enough sleep to last me, like, three weeks!"

"You were only asleep for a couple of hours!"

. . . . . . . .

She was chained up to a wall, her arms hanging on the wall either side of her in shackles, sitting on her knees. One of her arms was broken. Mashiro had grown accustomed to the position over the past week. There was blood all over the room, on the chains, on her arms and neck. Some of it was dried, some fresh.

She picked at the sekkiseki cuff on her not broken arm with her finger. She wished that she could just kido-blast them off, but the sekkiseki rendered her unable. She could rely only on her physical strength, but it wasn't doing her much good.

The door to the room swung open, casting light into the windowless room. She blinked as it hit her eyes, shining directly on her. Her captor stepped in, his tray of torture tools in his hands.

"Are you ready to talk, Soul Reaper-chan?" he asked.

"Nope."

"Are you certain you don't want to tell us about all that valuable info I'm sure you have?"

"Go to hell, pig."

"Well then." He undid the chains on her wrists. Her arms collapsed to her sides, and as she had no strength, her body fell to the floor. "Let's get started."

He grabbed her shirt and yanked it up, revealing her back. She still couldn't move, despite how much she wanted to bite him, hit him, do _something_. The man surveyed his tool selection with his dark eyes before settling on a whip- a knout with bits of looses metal incorporated into the rawhide, it looked like. Oh, please no…

Uncurling it, he lifted it above his head and brought it down. Against her will, she screamed as it slashed her bare back. It left behind pieces of metal. The only way to describe the sensation was a strand of fire messily ripping open her flesh.

The time was uncountable, but he whipped her for what had to be at least ten minutes, resting his arm every so often, enjoying every scream and sob. Her back was a bloody mess. Her face was stained with tears. And then, without warning, there was commotion outside the room. The sounds of men falling to the ground, a sound she was all too familiar with, given her work.

Her torturer stopped, swore, and threw the whip down at her, then lifted it again. "What the hell is going on out there?"

Suddenly, the door was blown off its hinges by kido. He stumbled back, the whip still above his head. A figure shot into the room.

"Don't you dare touch her again!" it shrieked. She'd recognize that voice anywhere, through walls, across entire rooms, she knew it so well. Soi Fon.

Another person came running into the room, towards her though. He dropped to his knees next to her and put down a blood-stained knife. "Mashiro! Man, look at you…"

On the other side of the room, Soi Fon had the man pinned. "You. Did. This. You _touched_ her! Do you know what I do to people who touch my girl?"

Her companion glanced at her. "Hey, Soi Fon, chill."

"Shut up, Kai. Just look at her. Can we forgive this pig?" she spat. The young man, Kai opened his mouth, looked at her, then shut it. He shook his head. "Knew you would understand. So, I asked you. Do you know?"

The torturer ignored her question, shaking and frothing at the corners of his mouth with the amount of spiritual pressure she was exerting. "Wh- who are you?"

Soi Fon grabbed his head in her hands. "Apparently, you don't. Well. I do this."

She bashed his head against the floor with the force it would take to throw a grown man across the room. There was a sickening crack. Mashiro relished the sound, even in her half-unconscious state, soaking in the sweet revenge taken for her.

"Well, that was a little over the top, don't you think, little sister?" The young man said, examining Mashiro's back.

"Of course not." She knelt down next to them, rubbing her hands on her brothers coat before patting Mashiro's head. "I found you, Shiro."

"So you did," she said weakly. "Thanks."

. . . . . . . .

Mashiro looks in the mirror. Then down at her hands. Sleeves cover them, extending far past her fingertips. She yanks them up, then reaches to undo her dark blue scarf. It flutter to the ground.

Sometimes she has to look to remember that it was real.

They haven't even faded, not in these past 55 years. Some of the deserters might've been from Squad Four and known how to make them last. Decorating her hands, arms, and neck are clusters of scars. All noticeable and in plain sight, deep into her flesh, marring and distorting her creamy skin. She absolutely despises them.

. . . . . . . .

**_Eight Months Later, Soul Society_**

It's revolting. Soi Fon nearly throws up when she sees it. It's big and bulky. She can't move. Whatever it does, it's probably stupid.

As Soi Fon looks at her new bankai, all she thinks is, _"What the hell, Suzumebachi?" _

Maybe, with some luck, she'll never have to use it. For now she'll just use it to master it. She'll become the captain soon enough.

_"Well, it looks stupid, but I least I got one."_ Soi Fon inwardly sighed. She then sadly thought, _"Happy birthday, Mashiro."_

. . . . . . . .

**_Same Day, World of the Living, Hideout of the Exiles_**

"Aww~, you didn't have to do all this for me!" Mashiro says. But still, she's pleased.

The former lieutenant looks better than she did eight months ago. She's put on the weight she'd lost from her lack of appetite. Her bright hair is down to her shoulders. The air of confidence is back. Most importantly, maybe, is that the bags under her eyes have vanished. She looks healthy again.

"We wanted to, dear!" Yoruichi says. "Happy birthday!"

There's a cake (vanilla with caramel frosting, her absolute favorite) on the table, and some of her least expensive favorite foods. Salmon, jasmine rice, dango, onigiri, curry rice, and many more. It must've cost quite a bit. Everyone is sitting at the table, clearly waiting for her so that they can partake of this feast.

Hachi pulls out a chair for her and she sits. They all start grabbing plates of food and piling it onto theirs. Mashiro takes a few stick of dango topped with soy sauce, fish, rice, and plenty of fruits, just for a healthy option.

The food is soon gone and Shinji, his hair newly cut, serves the cake, giving her the biggest slice with a wink and his signature grin. She gives him her most grateful smile and digs in, remaining silent, listening to everyone else's conversations. Just wondering if she should tell them now or not.

She decides now would be a good time. She stands and clears her throat. "Um, I have an announcement."

"Hurry it up," Kensei says, his lack of patience evident as always.

"Well," she mutters. Her hands move randomly, and she shifts her legs around. "I, um… well, I'm leaving."


End file.
